Living with illness teaches me to listen. It requires the hushing of “doing” and accepting the quiet of “being”. I have learned to listen more closely not only to the voices of others, but to the whisper of my heart and most of all to that which speaks infinite wisdom without saying a word…silence.
Is My Soul Asleep By, Antonio Machado
(Translated by Robert Bly)
Is my soul asleep? Have those beehives that work In the night stopped? And the water- Wheel of thought, is it Going around now, cups Empty, carrying only shadows?
No, my soul is not asleep It is awake, wide awake. It neither sleeps nor dreams, but watches, Its eyes wide open Far-off things, and listens At the shores of the great silence.